


The King and Queen of Winter

by AmeliaIsmills



Series: Diversity Switch [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaIsmills/pseuds/AmeliaIsmills
Summary: Through intervention or unknown forces, several of the Starks and Targaryens are sent hurtling back in time to the very beginning of their stories. Refusing to allow their families to be fodder for the war, they set forth a plan to make sure a Targaryen restoration occurs and the world triumphs over the long night.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Diversity Switch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479809
Comments: 5
Kudos: 155





	The King and Queen of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Sansa, Jon, Bran, Arya, Walla, and Daenerys, Jon/Sansa  
> The second story in my Diversity Series 
> 
> The first line of the stories comes from this prompt generator.  
> http://writingexercises.co.uk/firstlinegenerator.php  
> Each story has a time travel component.  
> Each story will be followed by a mirrored pairing even if the story does not come out consecutively with the other. As in my Jonerys story will be followed by a Jonsa story. If I write a wicked Daenerys, then the next story will be a wicked Sansa. If I write a story where Sansa is in a relationship with Daenerys, then the next one means Jon will be paired with Robb (or Theon or Tormund-this really depends on the day). Do you catch a theme here? 
> 
> That being said, the information below is VERY important for your reading pleasure. As I said each story is a stand-a-lone and set in a completely different universe a piece. The summary will tell you TWO specific things and occasionally a THIRD. 
> 
> Who is time traveling.  
> What the pairing is. (although so will the tags)  
> If I write a character as “mad” or “evil” then I will also warn for that. (although so will the tags)
> 
> I know this fandom is highly triggered and I want to try and give every opportunity for YOU to control your viewing pleasure. 
> 
> If you don’t dig a pairing, don’t read. If you don’t want to read Mad Queen Dany or Evil Manipulative Sansa, you should be able to easily maneuver away from any one-shots portraying them that way with my summary system. .
> 
> This entire thing is a project for me to write things I don’t particularly see in cannon, or do see in cannon, but want to do differently. It is a way to experiment with the fact that I love Daenerys and Sansa and Jon. There might even be some abusive Catelyn in here or Evil!Three eyed Raven and I assure you that I don’t dislike either of their characters either.  
> If you want to stick it out and read some or all, then enjoy. If you want to leave me a comment or kudos or check out my tumblr, awesome. If you don’t, then that’s cool too. 
> 
> https://hellsofbelles.tumblr.com

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/48848586537/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

He was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose could ruin a life, even if that life was his own. 

Jon swallowed hard as he stood in the hall and stared at the door that led to his wife’s quarters. If the girl sleeping in the room behind the door was the woman he knew to be his wife. 

Everyone else was asleep. 

_ And alive.  _ Jon swallowed hard as he continued to try and accept that he truly had returned to the past. Gone was the ice covered rivers of the riverlands and hundreds of thousands of dead walking towards the last hold living in Westeros. 

Gone were the last of the refugees sailing from King’s Landing with Sansa, the  _ Red Wolf Queen _ , leading the evacuation.

Gone were the last few souls who had survived long enough to watch as Rhaegal and Drogon tumbled from the sky, the Night King’s spears in their bellies and Daenerys barely alive from the fall. 

Jon did not think he would ever forget her last words. 

  
  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/48847990948/in/dateposted-public/)

_ “You must be the dragon now, nephew. Be the righteous fury of a true Targaryen and bring blood and fire to as many of the dead as possible,” Daenerys whispered as Jon held her as she choked out her last words, blood spilling from her mouth.  _

Now, everyone was alive again, but no longer the people he had fought and died with. His aunt somewhere across the sea, at a magistrate’s house, possibly believing her brother and herself the last dragons. 

Jon hoped she remembered. It would make his ascension to the throne less tumultuous if his aunt backed his claim from the beginning. 

He had already made the decision to put forth his claim. 

How different his choices would have been if he had known what was coming. How different would the end have gone if it had occurred with the full force of the armies of Westeros and Essos? 

There was no one else he could trust to take on the long night and he knew that he could draw people to his family names. Daenerys and Sansa would draw the rest. 

He would take the throne and finally join the houses of Stark and Targaryen as his father and mother had tried to do. 

Standing outside of his wife’s door, Jon did not know if he had the strength to knock and know if she had returned as he had. So he stood there and stood there. 

Jon had no clue how long he had been at the door before it flung open and a wild eyed Sansa was before him wearing a cloak she’d obviously just swung on to find him. 

“Jon,” she croaked as she flew at him. He quickly bundled her close, lifting her into his arms, and pressed them back into her chambers. 

  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/49062141911/in/dateposted-public/)

He cradled her into his arms and whispered sweet assurances that they were both okay. 

Sansa leaned back and looked at him, taking in his clean shaven face and tangling her fingers into his hair. He took stock of her youthful face and figure as well. 

“Ten and three for me and ten and five for you,” Sansa finally came to the conclusion. 

Jon buried his face into her hair, pressing a kiss against her neck, and thanking whatever gods were listening. 

“Do you have any idea?” Jon asked, his voice muffled. 

“None,” Sansa responded honestly, “What is the last you remember?” 

“Dany dying in my arms, Drogon dead behind her, and Rhaegal falling from the sky. What about you?” he asked. 

Sansa hummed as she led him to sit on the end of the bed with her. 

It had been going on eight months since he had seen her before the final battle. 

“I was...I was coming out of labor, our babe just stillborn and there was so much blood,” she whispered to Jon’s horror. 

“A maester?” he croaked. 

Sansa gave him a wry look, “The last ship of refugees gone with the last of the maester’s.”

“Why were you still in King’s Landing,” Jon asked, though he dreaded the answer. 

Sansa looked dead at him, her eyes showing fire and the readiness to fight. 

“I was coming back to you. The babe was early and I was not going to be anywhere else but beside my husband and king when the world ended,” she said with fierencess. 

“Sansa, sweetling,” Jon whispered and pressed a chaste kiss about her lips, before pulling back with a slightly distasteful expression. 

Sansa couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. 

“As much as I want to take the time to enjoy our family, I admit to being slightly put off by feeling like a lecher when looking at my wife,” he muttered looking down at her. 

Sansa did outright laugh at that. 

“And I miss your beard, my King,” she said brushing fingers across his cheekbones,”but we will endure.”

“That we will, my Queen,” he chuckled and laid back, Sansa falling back with and cushioning her head on his shoulder. 

“We need a plan and soon. It is only a matter of two years before the Baratheon’s come to Winterfell,” Jon mused.

Sansa hummed in agreement, “We need to involve, Father, and make him begin to consider the fact that Robert Baratheon was not the right man for the throne.”

Jon snorted, “He has not seen the man since the Greyjoy Rebellion, Sansa. I do not think we will be able to convince him of how dire the situation in Westeros is in with the usurper’s rule until he sees King Robert for himself.”

Sansa sat up suddenly, “Jon, we need to know the exact year.”

Jon looked at her quizzingly, attempting to pull her back down, but she slid out of bed and opened her wardrobe. 

“Can we not have one last cuddle before you decide it is dangerous for us to be affectionate?” Jon grumbled as he slid out of bed. 

Sansa shot him an irritated look.

“We will convince, Father, to tell everyone the truth about you. Then we will convince him of the future and of the necessary reasons for us to marry,” she stated bluntly. 

Jon gave her a disbelieving look, “Do you truly think that your Lady Mother will just decide to like me when we announce I am the one, true King?”

Sansa shot him a shrewd look as she pulled the plainest looking woolen dress from the back of her closet. 

She began unbuttoning the sleeves of her nightdress before answering, “No, I think she will decide her dislike of you is outweighed by her desire for her daughter to be queen.”

Jon shut his eyes as she began to strip and ignored the sharp laugh from his wife. He refused to look at her when she was but a child in front of him. He’d gladly look upon her flesh again when she was of an age to marry and had met him before the heart tree. 

“We will marry with their blessing, my King, I promise. We just have to have mother convinced it is her idea...you may open your eyes now, husband,” Sansa said quietly. 

Jon opened his eyes to find his fully dressed wife. 

“I hope I am right, Jon, but I believe we are several moons before a tournament held at Riverrun. We did not go for some reason or another, but the King is there, Jon! We have to convince Father we need to go,” Sansa said urgently and pushed him towards the door. 

“Sansa!” Jon raised his voice slightly and turned to her, “the sun has barely begun to rise, Father will be abed still.”

Sansa gave him another look that seemed to hint at her opinion of his current intelligence, “He will go to the heart tree first, Jon, upon awakening. We will meet him there.”

Jon gave her a wry grin, “As always, my wife, I bow to your mind.” 

Sansa pressed up quickly and kissed the side of his mouth. She came back to the flats of her feet and grabbed his hand before pulling him back out the door and down the chamber. 

* * *

Lord Eddard Stark would never forget the morning two of his children, one true and one lie, met him for his morning ablutions with their hands clasped together. 

  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/49061630753/in/dateposted-public/)

_ “Sansa...Jon…” Lord Stark’s voice carried throughout the God’s Wood. _

_ “Father,” Sansa responded quietly, “We need to speak with you.” _

_ Ned looked at both of his two children that he honestly expected the least trouble from, barring baby Rickon, and nodded as he sat beside the tree.  _

_ The fact that they were together and Sansa was not ignoring Jon was quite the mystery.  _

_ Sansa and Jon seemed to trade a look as if trying to figure out who should speak, but finally it seemed that Sansa was nominated.  _

_ “Father, I am afraid you will not believe us, but we must do everything we can to convince you…” Sansa began, “I am not sure where to start.” _

_ Ned quirked an eyebrow, “Perhaps the beginning,” he suggested and watched intrigued as his children shot each other a panicked look.  _

_ It did not take long before his own panic set in.  _

_ “The beginning, well...I suppose the beginning is the Tower of Joy, Uncle,” Jon said quietly and Ned felt his heart stop.  _

Ned snapped out of his memory as his wife moved around him giving orders to those that would travel with them. Benjen was standing by the gates with a grin that irritated Ned in a way only a brother could. 

He moved away from the wheelhouse and over to his brother. He resisted the urge to remove the grin from his brother’s face. 

“A southron tourney, really Ned?” Benjen chuckled. 

Ned clenched his fists. His brother was the only one who could still get under his skin enough to incite him to act with rash thinking. 

“It has been too long since we have seen Catelyn’s family and it would be rude not to present the children before King Robert,” Ned said wryly. 

Benjen’s eyes narrowed in a way that had become more judging as Jon grew older. Now that Jon knew and Benjen was made aware that his nephew knew, Ned’s younger brother barely tolerated mention of his childhood friend as the King. 

“He is not the King,” Benjen growled angrily. 

Ned sighed, “He sits on the Iron Throne and currently holds King’s Landing, Benjen. What exactly would you like me to do? Declare war?” 

Benjen opened his mouth to argue, but the quiet and stern voice of his eldest daughter interrupted. 

“Perhaps you both would like to speak a little louder? Scream it from the broken tower? Make sure any little birds I’ve missed run scampering back to the drunk fool himself and declare a dragon in the north?” Sansa scolded and Ned had to hold himself back from scolding her in return. 

She had more than proved her capability of being the calm in the storm. Ned had been more than surprised a few nights prior to find her breaking up a fight with Theon and Robb of all people. 

_ “You could be a great man one day, Theon Greyjoy, but you have a long way to go before you can even imagine him. Continue on your boisterous ways and you will never find acceptance among the people who value the iron price above all,” Sansa spoke coldly.  _

_ Ned had been impressed as she had met the older boy’s gaze, not wavering once. He had been more than shocked when Sansa turned her head and met her brother’s eyes.  _

_ “And you, Robb Stark, are acting more like a pig in the mud than a Lord. You will be the Warden of the North one day and you cannot go around solving arguments by thrashing the people you feel insulted by into the ground,” Sansa had lashed out before gathering her skirts and turning to swiftly walk away.  _

Sansa’s voice brought Ned’s attention back. She was looking directly at Benjen as she spoke softly. 

“Jon is the King and he will sit the Iron Throne, but it will do no good if Robert Baratheon declares war on the North before Jon can even begin to gather Southron allies. Robert Baratheon’s days are numbered by his general health and that harpy he is married to. His heirs are not his children and it will be discovered. We have opportunities to easily present Jon to the realm when they will be most receptive. Now is not the time, Uncle, besides you are not supposed to have an opinion,” Sansa murmured, a gloved hand placed on the sleeve of the jerkin Benjen wore, dancing over the crow etched into the sleeve. 

The man looked abashed, but nodded his acquiescence to his niece’s points. 

“There will come a day where the night’s watch will be released from their vows, if all goes according to plan, but that day is not today,” Ned heard Sansa murmur and Benjen fiercely respond. 

“The day my oath no longer matters I will swear one to Jon as his Kingsguard. I will swear it to you both,” Benjen promised as she moved away again, but Ned had the feeling Sansa was oddly pleased by her Uncle’s promise. 

“Still, Ned, Jon should stay here with me. Why would your wife agree to let him be in her childhood home?” Benjen asked when Sansa was out of earshot. 

Ned sighed, “Apparently it is better that he comes with us than leave him alone in Winterfell. I fear my wife is of the opinion that Jon will steal Robb’s birthright while we go to a tourney.”

Benjen wrinkled his nose, “Perhaps telling her the truth is not out of line? Jon might not favor Rhaegar in coloring, but if you look close enough, Ned, you can see his sire’s features.”

Ned nodded, “I want to, but we are going to wait until we are safely back in Winterfell from this fools charade. I told Sansa and Jon that I believed them, but apparently they feel I must see Robert for myself. Jon will keep himself out of the view of Robert.”

Ned glanced over to Sansa who was standing beside Jon’s horse, seemingly petting the beast. Jon could see her mouth moving slowly as Jon saddled the monster. A small smile graced his nephew’s lips and when he looked up a blind man would have been able to see the love in his eyes. 

“They love one another, Ned, and if things had been different it would not have been unexpected that a match would have been made between them,” Benjen followed his gaze, “If Jon had been a girl, it would have likely been Robb his hand would be offered to in another life.” 

Ned looked back with a sigh, “The pact of fire and ice. I know, Benjen. Jon came to me the night after they told me the truth in my solar. He told me that he wanted to formally ask for Sansa’s hand in marriage and they would marry once the iron throne was secured. That he understood nothing could be announced for a good long time, but wanted it to be formalized between House Targaryen and House Stark before anyone else knew the truth.” 

Benjen nodded, “And you said…”

Ned gave him a rueful glance, “What could I say, brother? By all accounts the future King of Westeros was asking for a Stark bride. I could not say no as the Warden of the North and I wanted to say yes as her father and his uncle.” 

“It was the right choice,” was all Benjen said before moving away and going towards the keep, “Even Catelyn will see that when the rest of the story is told.” 

Ned grimaced. He wished he had as much faith in his wife as his brother. 

* * *

**Riverrun**

Sansa had not anticipated the way being back in the Riverlands would affect Jon, nor did she think about the fact that there were many who would treat him with condescension at this time. She watched Jon force his face in the blank slate she knew he used when confronting difficult situations or people. 

The fact that it was her Uncle Edmure giving him such a blatant and disapproving look did not help. While her Uncle had remained a bumbling fool in the future, he had sworn his people and opened the Riverlands to Jon and Sansa. He had sent his heir and son with Sansa and Roslin to King’s Landing and had been one of the last of her family left alive. 

This time around her Uncle would not meet the soft spoken Roslin, but House Frey would fall. Sansa was not completely sure how, but any that could be a threat to their rule would have to go. 

Sansa took a deep drink of the watered wine served with dinner as she looked around the hall. She looked disdainfully at the wine. It was too sweet and had none of the northern bitter she had grown accustomed to. She took a bit of the lemon cake to balance the sweetness with tart. 

She desperately wanted to find Jon. She knew he was somewhere in the large room at the back with the newly discovered Samwell Tarly. He was here with the entirety of the Tarly family for the tournament. 

Jon had already spoken to her father about working to bring Samwell back with them to Winterfell to foster. Sansa was unsure what reasoning would be used, but she was certain that when the Stark’s left Riverrun it would be with Samwell Tarly. 

She doubted Lord Tarly would find a way to manuever out of not letting his son foster to a Lord Paramount. 

She glanced over at her father and her mother and found her mother smiling brightly, but her father looking as though he could commit murder. She raised an eyebrow and looked to who they were speaking to and felt her own blood freeze. 

Sansa shut her eyes tight and counted slowly as she tried to push away the remnants of anger Petyr Baelish caused her to feel. 

_ “Your Grace, it is wonderful to see you alive and well,” the sound of Petyr Baelish’s voice caused Sansa’s blood to boil.  _

_ She stared down from her husband’s throne at the scoundrel of a man whom she now knew to be the main orchestrator of her family’s demise.  _

_ “Is it, Lord Baelish? I thought the Eyrie was holding to the usurper Cersei Lannister? Or have you abandoned yet another royal family to the turning tide of chance,” she responded cooly.  _

_ Petyr smiled at her slickly, assuming that he had the power to keep her from doing anything...too violent.  _

_ He was a fool, Sansa mused as she casually crossed her legs and spread the wide skirts she wore out so that the Targaryen red was prominent. She watched the man only stumble slightly as she remained cool.  _

_ “I am simply a man looking out for his people. Surely, King Jon understands that the people must come before our own loyal ties,” the idiot simpered.  _

_ Sansa fought the impulse to yawn.  _

_ “His Grace understands a great many things about sacrifice. He sacrificed his first crown to protect his people and bring his Aunt north with her dragon’s. King Jon and Princess Daenerys both sacrificed much to remain North to fight our great enemy. Daenerys gave up what she thought was her destiny and Jon gave up his wife. He sent me south with an army to take King’s Landing and send as many across the narrow sea to save as possible,” Sansa paused, knowing the reasoning behind her words were escaping Petyr, but he would think she was playing into his hand.  _

_ She peered down at her fingers as he affirmed his understanding of all they had sacrificed. She listened for a moment before holding her hand down to Ghost who nuzzled into her palm. She smiled tenderly at him and resisted the urge to lay her hand over her stomach.  _

_ Then she thought again.  _

_ Perhaps, she would use that blade as well.  _

_ Laying her hand across her stomach protectively she gave a nod to Ser Barristan and Ser Brienne. They moved carefully to her side as several northmen and unsullied sent with her South lined up behind Petyr.  _

_ He had trailed off and was staring at her hand.  _

_ She let the room remain silent for a moment before looking back up and spreading her arms again, taking up a stance that looked relaxed, even as her blood hummed for justice.  _

_ “But Lord Baelish, you know what is the most interesting thing right now?” she mused casually and watched as the mouse went into her trap.  _

_ “I do not know, Queen Sansa,” the man simpered.  _

_ Sansa let herself bark out a laugh, knowing the bitterness was easily heard.  _

_ “My husband is not here. He does not sit on his throne currently, but has sent his wife in his stead. I might sit upon my husband’s throne, but I am still the Queen. Not as a consort or a puppet as so many have been before. My husband is a just man...but as I said, he is not here...and you face a wolf today in Dragon clothing,” Sansa said as her blood strummed louder in anticipation at what was going to happen.  _

  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/48847991608/in/dateposted-public/)

_ “Your Grace?” the fool began to actually fear her. She could see it seeping into his eyes.  _

_ She nodded to the men behind him and watched as he was pressed to his knees right in the middle of the throne room. She grinned savagely. _

_ “Did you know I fed my second husband to his own hounds, Lord Baelish after you sold me to him? Be happy I only call for your head,” she snarled out as one of the northmen drew his sword and stood beside the coward.  _

_ “Lord Petyr Baelish, in the name of Her Grace, Queen Sansa, first of her name, wife of Jon, King of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of Westeros, you are sentenced to die,” one of the unsullied said, a monotone sound to his voice, and then the sound of metal slicing the air and the hard knock of hitting bone and snap...Petyr Baelish’s head tumbled to the ground.  _

_ Sansa closed her eyes and said a small prayer to the old gods in thankfulness for allowing some of her family to survive the man she had just sent to his death.  _

Sansa snapped out of the trance she had found herself in and quickly collected herself. Standing abruptly she quickly motioned for those around her to stay seated and made her way to her Mother and Father. 

“Father, Mother, I fear the heat of the riverlands had gotten to me,” Sansa said by way of excuse and ignored the way the mockingbird’s eyes noticed her.

“Do you remember the way back to your rooms? You should have an escort,” her mother immediately began. 

“Jon will take me. He is seated to the back and will not be missed as anyone else,” Sansa said and pleaded with her father with her eyes. 

Her mother opened her mouth to argue, but her father quickly interrupted. 

“A considerate idea, sweetling,” he said and motioned for Jon to come to the front. Sansa was immensely glad that Robert and his retinue of pretenders would not arrive till the morrow. They needed Robert Baratheon to pay as little attention to Jon as possible. 

“Ned...I do not think that…,” her mother began, but once again her father interrupted. 

“Aye, there’s no harm in it, Cat. Let Jon escort Sansa to her rooms as she requested.”

Sansa watched her mother leant back as if sucking on a lemon. Sansa said a prayer to the old gods for patience with Catelyn Stark. Her mother would need to be told as soon as they reached home after this farce. 

If anything her mother would eventually realize her father was making every effort to not refer to Jon and Sansa as siblings, compared to everyone else. Sansa felt this was specifically because he was doing the best he could to come to terms with the fact that Sansa and Jon would marry. 

Jon was offering her his arm as Sansa let her thoughts twirl as she was led away. 

Soon, it would begin, within two turns the North would declare war on the House of Baratheon. Within two years, the Stag and Lions would fall and the Dragon’s would return while the Wolves would rise. She looked around the room at the bannermen of her Grandfather and took a deep breath. In two years, when she was fifteen and Jon seventeen, the Seven Kingdom’s would be won and they would stand before them as King and Queen. 

* * *

**Essos**

**One Turn Later**

The vast land was as desolate and hopeless as she remembered it, but Daenerys Targaryen no longer feared the desert. Jorah was walking behind her and the rest of the small group of Dothraki that had stayed. 

Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal flew overhead in swirling patterns. She paused as Drogon seemed to recognize his mother was watching and turned to glide onto her shoulder. 

She smiled and rubbed at his head. They were so small now, but they would grow fast here in the wilds of Essos. She would not cage them and it would only be a few turns before they would all be ready to sail to Westeros. 

This time to the North and to Jon. 

They would take the south together, the night king would burn, and her children would live. 

* * *

**One More Turn Later**

**White Harbor**

Sansa stood overlooking White Harbor from her room in the merman’s keep. She knew Jon was somewhere below on the beach going over footwork with Arya and Syrio. He had enjoyed the braavasi man’s lessons and Sansa had been greatly amused to find that Syrio had become master teacher to not only Arya, but Jon by the end of things. 

“Sansa?” her mother called from the door. Sansa turned with a smile to her mother. 

“Yes, Mother?” she asked quietly. 

“You are not going to see Targaryen sails any faster by watching the horizon,” Lady Catelyn teased and Sansa blushed. 

It was so close to time. So much work had been done for just this day. It did not occur exactly like she thought it would, but the fall out from their early maneuvering had been fruitful in ways they could not have imagined. 

Varys had arrived North not three moons prior and word had come from Theon and Yara that the fleet was leaving Essos. Robert Baratheon was dead and Joffrey had taken the throne. 

  
  


Word of a well timed plague sweeping the North had kept Robert from coming to declare her father hand after the death of Jon Arryn. When he had responded to a betrothel offer to Joffrey with flat refusal of Sansa’s hand the relationship had soured enough that no demands were forthcoming for Ned to come south. 

They had called the banners as planned from the North and the Riverlands. They had secured Dorne through a marriage alliance with Daenerys and the eldest of the Martell Prince’s. Last thing Sansa had heard was that Dany rather liked her Dornishman. Sansa was still immensely grateful that the Dornish did not hold with the sins of the father dictating the treatment of the son. 

The eldest would be Prince-Consort to Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Freedom Bay and all its surrounding lands. Daenerys was not as likely to share her power in a regnal match, but alas it was the difference between being a King marrying a wife and a Queen taking a husband. 

The promise of open hunting season for Gregor Clegane, Amory Lorch, and Tywin Lannister had helped grease the last of the reluctance with the Dornish. 

Then the announcement had gone out declaring the truth. 

_ I, Jon of House Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and his second-wife Lyanna of House Stark do hereby declare that Joffrey, the self-styled king, is not a trueborn heir of House Baratheon. He was sired by Jaime of House Lannister.  _

_ Furthermore, as Robert of House Baratheon, styled himself as King and claimed the throne as blood relative and heir to House Targaryen, the throne shall revert back to the original bloodline.  _

_ Come North and bend the knee.  _

_ Jon of House Targaryen  _

_ King of the Andals, the Rhynor and the First Men  _

_ Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of Westeros  _

The fact that with the letter was also signed statements and pledges of loyalty to House Targaryen made for more legitimacy than they had the first time around. 

_ Lord Eddard of House Stark, Warden of the North  _

_ Lord Hoster of House Tully, Lord of Riverrun  _

_ Prince Doran of House Martell, Prince of Dorne  _

_ Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and Queen of Dragon’s Bay  _

They had hesitated with Daenerys signing through proxy, but it had been decided that they would go forward with all those loyal. They had entered into a tentative negotiation with the Reach and Sansa prayed that Tyrell greed did not lead to them allying with Renly or even with Lannister. 

The second announcement to go out with the ravens was mainly for Jon’s sanity when every Lord close by began to offer their daughters in marital sacrifice. 

_ I, Eddard Stark, announce the betrothal of my daughter, Sansa of House Stark, to His Grace, Jon of House Targaryen. The wedding will take place in the Sept of Baelor upon our King’s return to King’s Landing. _

Jon was still put out that they were going to marry in the light of the seven, but Sansa knew that they had to solidify their rule with the cooperation of the faith. To do anything else would lead to ruin long before they could take on the night king. 

A loud noise jerked Sansa from her musing. Her eyes darted up and she couldn’t help but grin. 

“Mother, change and prepare! Daenerys is home,” she stated excitedly and rushed to her wardrobe even as the sounds of horns and shouts could be heard. 

“Dragon sails on the horizon!”

“Find the King!” 

Thrusting dresses aside, she heard Wylla behind her. She turned and could not help but smile at the girl who would be joining her as a member of her own court in King’s Landing. 

“Come, Princess, let us dress you,” Wylla said with a smile and motioned the maids forward. 

“I am not a princess, Wylla. Jon and I have said no vows,” Sansa admonished, but raised an eyebrow when Wylla took her hands in hers. 

“No, Your Grace, you are correct, you are not a princess. You are a Queen and you are my Queen, this day till my last. It matter’s not to me that the words have not been said in the sept. His Grace and yourself are wedded by the God’s themselves,” Wylla fiercly responded and Sansa gave her hands a squeeze. 

“Thank you, Wylla. You are a true friend to me,” she responded and then turned as the maids began to strip her. 

  
  
  
  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/49929820938/in/dateposted-public/)

They had just joined the line, Jon in front of them all, when Drogon dipped over with Viserion on his tail. They flew off towards an isolated beach area. Rhaegal came a few moments later and circled the keep. 

Jon smiled upwards at his dragon and the dragon seemed to give a huff before following his brothers. Sansa knew it would not be long before Jon snuck down to reestablish the rider’s bond. 

Next came Daenerys’s blood riders, before the Queen herself rode in, with Ser Jorah to one side and Missandei to the other. Sansa watched as her future good-aunt dismounted and strode forward to meet Jon. 

Sansa held back her laughter as the rest of the line gaped as Jon embraced his aunt in a hug that lifted her off her feet. 

“Welcome home, Aunt Daenerys, welcome home,” she heard him mutter before putting her back down. 

Daenerys was smiling and Sansa could see the water in her eyes. 

“It is good to be back in Westeros, nephew. Now, I believe you have some people I should meet,” Daenerys stated quietly, her eyes darting to Sansa’s father. 

Jon led Daenerys to Lord Stark. 

Lord Stark bowed, “Queen Daenerys, welcome to Westeros and the North.”

“Lord Stark, there are no words I can give as the eldest of House Targaryen to make the harm caused to your own house by my father absolved. House Targaryen can never repay House Stark for the sheltering of our own nephew and fellow monarch. We are forever in your debt,” Daenerys said before another word could be spoken. 

A needle could have been heard if dropped as Sansa felt her breath leave her and Jon’s bewildered gaze catch her eyes. 

“There is no debt to be had among family, Your Grace,” Lord Stark said and his voice sounded rough, but Sansa could see how pleased he was. Whatever he had thought about Daenerys of House Targaryen before she arrived, the Dragon Queen now held his respect. 

“Then let us be merry and please, introduce me to your Lady Wife,” Daenerys said and the tension broke. 

Sansa could not help but smile in relief and when her eyes met Jon’s she found them upon the entirety of the family with soft fondness. 

They had reached Lord Manderly and the man bowed to the best of his ability. 

“Your Grace, be welcome to White Harbor,” he said stately and Daenerys smiled at him and the man blushed to Sansa’s amusement. 

* * *

**Westeros**

**The King’s Road**

Several moons later, the northern and southron contingents found themselves marching towards King's landing. Sansa looked up from her mount and watched as Jon and Daenerys flew above head. 

Rhaegal and Drogon we're both fierce in their own capacity, but there was something more to them with their riders upon their backs that made Viserion pale in comparison. 

Her talk with Daenerys before the left had been interesting to say the least of it. 

_ “I want to find Gendry immediately upon taking King’s Landing. I have been dreaming of him and I see the shadow of Viserion standing above him. I think he is my last child’s rider,” Dany whispered as she stared at the fire.  _

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/49930190673/in/dateposted-public/)

_ Sansa hummed in interest, “And what is his capacity to you after the long night is over?”  _

_ She refused to believe that they would not all survive. Her family had to survive or everything was for naught.  _

_ “While relations among our people are to be greatly approved, I would not think Your Grace would wish two of her children to remain in Westeros,” Sansa said bluntly when no more information was forthcoming.  _

_ Dany smiled in mischief, “I thought to see how Jon and yourself would feel about making Lord Gendry and Lady Arya the Master’s of Trade between Essos and Westeros. Viserion would make that a good amount easier and it would help to divide their time. With all the generations between us, Gendry is one of the last blood relatives I have and I would like to have some family close on a regular basis.” _

_ Sansa pondered that thought and gratefully accepted another cup of tea from Wylla. Her sister Wynafred was sitting next to Missandei and Danaerys and did the same.  _

_ “I think that would be agreeable,” Sansa finally responded and they both grinned at each other.  _

_ “I don’t know what everyone was worried about. I find diplomacy to be quite easy when dealing with people who are not complete imbeciles,” Danaerys mused.  _

_ “That’s because we are not men,” Wynafred said solemnly and Missandei covered her mouth as she tried to hold back a giggle.  _

_ Daenerys grinned, “That we are not, that we are not.” _

The night’s grew longer the further south they went. Those that had traveled back knew this was no more than the long night drifting closer. They followed the original timeline closely, making lists of information on parchment to attempt to better prepare. 

Maps were spread every night in the King’s council tent and plans made. It was only as they began the last leg of the march to King’s Landing that they began to discuss the plan for the city. 

Sansa was invited to every council meeting, as was her mother. Wylla stayed beyond the tent with the rest of the soon to be court ladies. Her mother had chosen to take a Frey of all thing’s as her own personal lady in waiting. 

Lady Walda of House Frey had perhaps been a victim that blossomed under her mother’s tutelage. 

_ “I know what they did, Sansa, but the women had no part and the bridges must be mended there. The majority of the men are a lost cause and I know Jon will deal the King’s justice to them, but House Frey has the capability to be more than they were,” her mother whispered late into the day when they were taking a personal meal together.  _

_ “I accept they did not take part, but surely they knew something. You cannot trust them solely on the ideal that they are women,” Sansa retorted.  _

_ Catelyn had smiled softly, “Daughter, you were abused by the same family that bestowed grievous harm upon Walla and she remembers...should you not be above the emotion’s and reaction’s of the common person. You are to be Queen of Westeros and to be a good Queen you must hold yourself to a higher standard, in both justice given and pardon offered.” _

_ Sansa had thought long into the night on her mother’s words and felt the bloodlust abate slightly. She had informed her mother the next day that she understood and agreed, but that her mother had to take responsibility in telling Arya.  _

_ Her mother had laughed aloud at that.  _

“Rider’s to the South!” a man hollered from the front of the line and Sansa braced herself as several men immediately drew closer to her and drew weaponry. 

“They ride under the white flag! Baratheon and Tyrell colors!” 

Sansa started and looked to her mother with a raised brow. 

“Bloody hell, it’s Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell,” her father said in disbelief before turning his horse to trot to where Jon was waiting. 

It seemed a long hour before they were told to dismount and tent’s were put up. Soon a herald came for both her mother and herself. They entered the council chamber to astonishingly find Renly and Loras both on their knees before Jon. 

Sansa listened in astonishment as both men pledged their houses. Renly as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Loras, representing his father. Jon motioned her to him. 

“May I present my betrothed, Lady Sansa of House Stark,” he said in a way of introduction. Both men stood and greeted her amiably enough. 

Loras stepped closer with a look to Jon and held out a letter. Sansa took it with slightly trembling fingers when she recognized Margaery’s handwriting. 

“My Lady Sister wishes you to know she remembers how much you liked lemon cakes and she is sorry for any sorrow she caused you in King’s Landing,” Loras said softly and Sansa glanced back at Jon. 

Of all people to remember, she had not expected Margaery. She was grateful though and smiled at Loras. 

“I will write a response myself, but please express my desire for Lady Margaery to join my ladies court upon my marriage to King Jon,” she responded gracefully and Loras nodded and bowed to her. 

They slowly began their march again upon King’s Landing and when they finally arrived, Sansa was placed on a ship with the rest of the ladies, well out of Blackwater Bay. They would be swiftly removed if everything went wrong. 

She refused to believe it would. Jon and she would stand before the septon in the Sept of Baelor before the end of the current moon. 

She joined her mother in prayer upon the first morning as the siege began. They had enough knowledge of what had been prepared for the attack on King’s Landing against them and everything discounted the dragon’s that the Lannister’s had dismissed as rumor. 

So, thus on the third day, when the bells tolled and Varys opened the gates one last time, the army with Jon at the head, took control of the city. 

For the first time, the Stark family found themselves sequestered in the Maidenvault till the marriage took place. 

Sansa leant back in her chair among the garden and gazed happily upon her family. They had survived the first war and they would continue to survive the winter. 

Starks no longer died in the south, but they still preferred the north. 

  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/49930332223/in/dateposted-public/)


End file.
